Going to funk my gunk

The greener grass grows where the wildfires fertilize
With ashes of sparrows, peppered moths, and butterflies
Ghosts of trees and termites bloom in the beanstalk

And if you get lightheaded when standing too fast
Is it from shaking out the weight of phosphenes and pasts
Salt deposits on warm little rivers that burst from our words

And god knows crying ain’t gonna change a thing
She said “take care,” but I take more than I bring.

She said “It just feels inhumane to lose this much”
Cause when you leave, you know you take more than your love
Just one week of cicada days we’re losing touch
And I know it just feels inhumane to lose this much.

Our nerves were braided under ceiling stars, they were all
Glow-in-the-dark, hanging over queen-sized 
Purple waves of ancient chemicals
Just whisper

Did you ever build with those endangered bones?
Well the ground looks soft enough to bury this now
Oh please, oh no.

And then my sponsor said “Do nothing. Nothing works.”
And then my doctor said “Don’t do that if it hurts.”

She said “It just feels inhumane to lose this much.”
Cause when you leave, you know you take more than your love.
The seasons of cicada days we can’t make up
And I know it just feels inhumane to lose this much.

Let all my red flags fade to white, yeah, I give up
Don’t let me leave, I’ll only take more than I gave. Okay, I’ll pack my stuff
Here at the end of days, my god, what have I done?
Christ now it feels damn inhumane to get all I've dreamed of

Keep coming back, it works if you work it
So work it, you’re worth it, it won’t if you don’t
One day at a time, tomorrow’s too late, amen.

"In case I make it,"

Cicada Days

They paint the walls with colors that you’re not meant to notice
Beiges and browns, off-whites and grayscales
Fluorescent lights to shine on the eggshell ground
Now you’re lying face down
You blend into the background
Of white noise

They fill the halls with tunes you can’t get into your head
4/4 and Dorian, wrote ‘em for ignoring ‘em
Yeah, it sorta sounds like a retro top-40 but wrong
You’re not meant to sing along
It isn’t that kind of song
It’s white noise.

But If you listen closely I swear, to God I swear
You can hear the ocean if you hold it up to your ear, here:

White noise
If you listen close between the waves
White noise
You can hear the ocean through your wake
White noise
If you listen close between the waves
White noise 
You can hear the ocean through your wake

Check one two. Check one two
It’s high fidelity lossless quality, it’s MP 1 2 3 4 5 FLAC
It’s polyphonic, the new philharmonic, with a Julliard doctorate. Live from The Metropolitan: 
It’s theoretically dense, it’s impressive, it’s microtonal and it challenges western
Notions of art, it’s post-avant-garde, it’s going places ‘cause it comes from the heart and
Its personality’s a lack of identity. It makes no statement but does so quite loudly
It’s an aesthetic, I mean an anesthetic, and its an experience for your seventh sense, yes
Does it cure cancer? Yes, it cures cancer. Wow! It begs the question just to tell you the answer
Do you believe in the power of silence? Well if you walk the walk, can you talk more quiet?

White noise
If you listen close between the waves
White noise
You can hear the ocean through your wake
White noise
If you listen close between the waves
White noise 
You can hear the ocean through your wake

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can’t even feel
Try to make room in your skull, but its full of them
All of the things that you think and then think about thinking
I know It’s hard
But they’re not who you are
They’re white noise

White Noise

People think this is someone besides will wood singing? 

That's enough, let's get you home. Will wood

I want a new pair of shades, get paid to wear shoes
Do what I say, don't say what I do when we're alone now
High up but a low down
You know I'm not the type of guy to turn my back on a knife
And that's why I'm still looking in the mirror

I want to be safe from the fame but be loved from afar
Get paid to write my name, could you airbrush my scars?
Get my good side. Don't get on my bad side.
You know I'm not the type of guy to turn my back on a knife
It's just my luck these motherfuckers talking smack on a guy
But I'm deserving every word they could begin to apply
Well at least they know now

That I really don't care what you think or what you say
Either that or I do way too much, oh well, whatever, either way
My hearts empty and I'm trying to fill it up
But it's not big enough for the both of us
No it's not big enough for the both of us

I want no less than the best but the best I can do
Is do the worst thing first and leave the rest up to you
I'm realistic. Everyone's a critic.
If I keep beating myself up I'll keep on winning the fight and get my ass kicked
I'm poisonous not toxic
I'll admit when I'm wrong, but only to be right
And if it fits in the song, I'll rhyme that with "contrived"
Don't meet your idols. Hey fuck you, I'm your idol.
But the only label that'll sign is in the DSM-5, cause my flaws are sort of on the pathological side.
Don't call me eccentric, call me mentally sick, 'cause I ain't sold enough tickets yet to be rich, and that's the only difference

I really don't care what you think or what you say
Either that or I do way too much, oh well, whatever, either way
My hearts empty and I'm trying to fill it up
But it's not big enough for the both of us
No it's not big enough for the both of us

And if looks could kill, I'd be staring in the mirror
And if looks could kill, I'd be staring in the mirror
And if looks could kill, I'd be staring in the mirror
Even more than I already would
'Cause man I'm looking good 

And I really don't care what you think or what you say
Either that or I do way too much, oh well, whatever, either way
My hearts empty and I'm trying to fill it up
But it's not big enough for the both of us
And I really don't care what you think or what you say
I'm a cancer, I'm malignant, yeah you ought to stay away
My hearts fucking empty and I'm trying to fill it up
But it's not big enough for the both of us
No it's not big enough for the both of us
No it's not big enough for the both of us.

...And If I Did, You Deserved It. ("In case I make it," Outtake) - Knitting Factory, Spokane, WA

...And If I Did, You Deserved It Live - Will Wood

the first step - will wood and the tapeworms

Ben Meets A Few Good Records

Will Wood's cover of 'Chocolate Jesus' by (Tom Waits)

DownloadMaster

Front Street (Acoustic ver) - Will Wood and The Tapeworms

LIVE IN STUDIO - Will Wood and the Tapeworms - "Skeleton Appreciation Day in Vestal, NY"

I remastered a bunch of old Will Wood Project songs pt 2

Sing the SingerSongwriter Song (Remastered by Izzy Izix) - A Verbal Equinox

Red Moon by Will Wood and the Tapeworms from Everything is a Lot. ©2015

Red, red moon. Keep on rising. 
The sunset soon indeed will bleed in my horizon. 
The crescent rests, tethered to the west. 
Waxing to the rhythm writhing in my chest. 
That crack between the watercolor sky and sea is the 
corner where you’re born in the mist. 
I might deride the tide, ‘cause I’m pulled as it pools about my feet. 
Towards your stolen light, while you’re holding my slight gravity. 

Well I walk the equator, chasing the light; little do I know it orbits close behind. 
I might remember or might assume, but I only turn around every once 
In a red, red moon. I only turn around every once in a red, red, moon. 

Red, red moon. When will your shadows break? 
Tell the truth; what’re you hiding behind that face? 
If matters in then I might space out, 
why can’t I take in what you’ve been putting out? 
Why do I reject while you endlessly reflect? 
While you’re projecting your perfection astounds 
Nighttime, please hide my eyes, so the man up there won’t watch me stare. 
Teach me to make moonshine, and we’ll get drunk on the spirit of the air. 

Well I walk the equator, chasing the light; little do I know it orbits close behind. 
I might remember or might assume, but I only turn around every once 
In a red, red moon. I only turn around every once in a red, red, moon. 

The constellations form infinite paisleys in the sky 
The condensation tumbles down and erases my sight 
And is it in the nightmare map of the cosmos up high? 
Or is it in the signs? Or stranger still, just in my eyes? 

Well I walk the equator, chasing the light; little do I know it orbits close behind. 
I might remember or might assume, but I only turn around every once 
In a red, red moon. I only turn around every once in a red, red, moon.

RED MOON

From "Everything is a Lot" by Will Wood and the Tapeworms.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hl5XUM_qoN4

Six-up, five-oh, pigs come, I cop n’ go. 
The blotter shows they got me on the rocks like Galapagos. 
Good luck finding critters creepy as me. They shoulda fried me, I’ll give ya PTSD 
Vodka shots droppin’ down the throat they been stompin’ on. 
Cockin’ guns, lockin’ up, the quotas all for shock n’ awe. 
Drivin’s tirin’, and I been hot-wirin’ to make my get away from the jailbreak riot and 
Cellmates scrapin’ upon the bricks in the basement, 
tryin’ to escape this probation generation- too late! 
Crazy fuckers’ gotta do the time. 
Committed to the mental ward, committing all the crimes. 
I’m alive and kickin’ till the split ends fray. 
Maybe plead insane, guilty, but I’m not to blame! 
I’m a slave to the main vein, sprayin’ on the mainframe. 
Suffering the infrastructure, hoping I can maintain! 
Oh how I know how I go how I go. Ask me a question the answer I know. 
Yes or no options don’t weigh out and so; I don’t ever see the cons and the pros. 

You bare a striking resemblance. 
Some kind of semblance of somethin’ I been rememberin’. 
You appear familiar dear. You look just like my bathroom mirror. 
Please policeman- no heel-to-toe. Oh please, let me go! 
Please police- is it a test? I won’t know till I’m under arrest. 

The drunk-tank’s blood red. Junkie’s gonna relapse. 
Some think punk’s dead, me I don’t believe that. 
Rock n’ roll gatherin’ the moss till I be that lichen-coated boulder, make you slip, 
Bust your kneecap! 
Open on the amazon, hide the cure for cancer. 
I’m Lance Armstrong, you’re the necromancer. 
Slash n’ burn, crash into the 42nd answer, 
all my fellow skeletons adore the army ants here. 
Flies on my eyeballs, scabs on my elbows. 
Heaven knows God’s sittin’ up there like “Hell no!” 
Only one thing comes to those who wait. Is it too late to embrace your fate? 
My death come swiftly and gently to you. 
Mayhem, cry mayday, and oncoming doom. 
Save your convictions, they never will do. What you say’s at least 1/6 billionth true. 

You bare a striking resemblance. 
Some kind of semblance of somethin’ I been rememberin’. 
You appear familiar dear. You look just like my bathroom mirror. 
Please policeman- no heel-to-toe. Oh please, let me go! 
Please police- is it a test? I won’t know till I’m under arrest. 

Am I being detained? Am I under arrest? 
Read me my rights please. I want my phone call. 
Please policeman- no heel-to-toe. Oh please, let me go! 
Please police- is it a test? I won’t know till I’m under arrest.

6up 5Oh CopOut (Pro/Con)

6up 5oh Copout (Pro/Con) (Will Wood and the Tapeworms Cover)

That Handsome Devil - Savages (OFFICIAL)

That Handsome Devil - Twist The Knife

Dr Sunshine is Dead - Will Wood and The Tapeworms (Reverb + Slowed)

follow me for a rat 🐀🤍 

pronouns - they/them

hi guyzz!! I’m out 4 summer break at school so I won’t be managing this account until it starts back up again!! srry all 3 of you (with love, kenstarr)

the first step - will wood and the tapeworms

kenstarr!!

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